The Story We Know
by SaL
Summary: The story I’m about to relate to you is not one of love or death or suffering, though it may seem that way. Instead I’m going to tell you a story about life, living, and growing up. And it all started with a simple, sweet hello.' Inspired from
1. Reflections From A Park Bench

The Story We Know

SaL

Chapter One: Reflections from a Park Bench

This morning when I woke up I was merely a boy. But sitting here tonight on this park bench I have come to the conclusion that somewhere between the ages of thirteen and eighteen I, unbeknownst to myself, became a young man.  I spent the better part of my childhood looking forward to this day.  I'd always dreamed of the possibilities manhood would bring; a good steady job, my own home, a beautiful girlfriend or maybe a wife, and perhaps even a family.  It's funny how the one thing I'd always dreamed of becoming finally happens and here I am hating it; wishing I could return to my childhood days, build a wall around myself, and live my life just the way I always have without any interruptions.  It's just… I don't want to be grown up! But as my father used to say, 'remember son, if you only look behind you'll never get ahead'.  I never did understand what he meant until now, until this day. The story I'm about to relate to you is not one of love or death or suffering, though it may seem that way.  Instead I'm going to tell you a story about life, living, and growing up.  And it all started with a simple, sweet hello. 

Now you must understand this before I begin. I've lived through difficult times and have had my share of hardships, that's how I ended up here in this hellhole of a lodging house.  Don't get me wrong for an orphan boy on the streets this place is a sanctuary.  The friends you make here will support you for life.  That's just the way things are here and I've learned to live with it.  But life isn't easy. The guys here, they don't understand how I feel, simply because they have no memory of their lives before this place like I do. I remember how at one time I had it all, a family, friends, a life.  I don't pity them though, I'm glad for them because if they did remember, if they did understand what I feel, then there would be no hope.  Sometimes I find myself envying the other boys, whishing I could forget too.  Then again there are times when the only thing I want is to remember.  

My father died when I was ten, the doctors said it was due to complications in his blood but I believe it was a broken heart.  My mother had died only a few years earlier and her absence had taken its toll on dad.  We got along just fine, the two of us; but dad could get real sad sometimes.  Once, when I came home from school I found him sitting in our old musty attic.  Just sitting there alone, with the curtains drawn and the lights out staring ahead at a large portrait of her, my mother. He claimed he could feel her presence sometimes like she was his guardian angel or something.  People thought he was going mad and they tried to take me away from him.  

My father died shortly after the custody trial. I think after loosing his wife and the threat of having me taken away was too much of a strain on him.  I had found him one bright and sunny morning lying cold and lifeless in his room, I didn't want to believe it because just he looked like he was asleep. It was two days before a neighbor found me curled up beside him waiting for him to wake up.  I stayed with my neighbor until the courts put me in an orphanage, and it is there that my story begins…   

A/N:  Well there it is people my first fic in months.  I hope you enjoyed it so far!

            My next chapter will reveal the identity of this newsie.


	2. A New Home

The Story We Know

SaL

Chapter Two: A New Home

Before I begin I ask that you keep in mind that because many things have happened in my life my account may not be entirely accurate…

I remember quite clearly the morning I was taken to the orphanage.  It was a bleak and dismal day with grey rain clouds looming over the horizon. A withered old nun with a kindly smile came by home, in a small black carriage, to take me to the orphanage.  It was a long ride from my home in Queens to the Lower East Side in Manhattan.  Yes we lived in Queens and no we weren't rich but we weren't stark poor either, not like the immigrants were.  How we came to live in Richmond Hill, Queens I'm still unsure of but I do know this, before it had become the ritzy place it is today there had been a small settlement of cheap flats or boarding houses surrounded by shops and a small neighborhood of quaint little cottages.  It was in one such cottage that my family and I had lived in for years.  We were able to afford it because my dad was a conductor of a rail line that ran from NYC to Chicago. 

 I remember life in Queens, I always had enough food and clothes; I even had my own bike.  I used to ride my bike each morning to school and each night after I'd finished my homework.  I'd ride down the streets lined with town houses, large mansions, ranchers, and flats to watch the fancy men and women arriving at their parties.

How beautiful they were, and oh how I wanted nothing more than to be a part of that, to have all those people smiling at my entrance, to be known and respected, to dance the night away with no worries.  Oh how they fascinated me! I would ride down the street picking out my favorite people and inventing stories for each of them.  To me they represented all the opportunities and possibilities I could have.

            On that morning in the carriage with the old withered nun we drove past those magnificent buildings that had once struck my fancy.  I could still see the men in top hats and tuxes, flashing suave grins toward their dates who were dressed in extravagant gowns.  They would link their arms together and the women would laugh exuberantly as though they had just heard the funniest joke ever.  

But that particular morning was different.  That morning I had seen the buildings and the people for what they truly were.  Everything about them was as imaginary as the stories I had invented.  There was nothing suave or charming about them, they became to me empty promises and I felt betrayed.  I found myself envying everything about them: their wealth, their happiness.  Why should their children have parents, they already have everything else. And I doubted that a child born of rich parents would ever end up in an orphanage.  

            After my father died they took everything away, our house, which had belonged to my father's family for generations, we owned the house, it was ours and they took it away.  They took my mother's things from the attic including her portrait; they took my father's valuables and all of his money, which was supposed to have belonged to me. That house, my parents things, they were my inheritance but the bank and some realtors with the help of a lawyer slapped down some legal crap and my ten year old mind couldn't grasp the concept that they had no right to be doing this, that according to the law my father's will had to be upheld.  I didn't understand and I thought there was nothing I could do to stop them.  Which was exactly what they had counted on.  I would later find out that the papers I had signed gave them property rights, which they would use to tear down those cottages and erect newer series of townhouses.  And I was sent to the orphanage with only one bag of what little belongings I was allowed, my bike and $5 in my pocket.         

            As we pulled toward the desolate brick building that was the orphanage all of my hatred and envy had vanished. Now I was overwhelmed by an intense sadness and I fought the urge to jump out of the carriage and run home.  I wanted to tell them that it had all been a big misunderstanding, that my father wasn't dead he was just sleeping, to tell them he had been exhausted after an entire week on the job.  But I restrained myself, for deep down I knew the truth and I was caught in fear of a stronger and greater urge.  

I wanted nothing more than to be with my parents and I was willing to do anything to accomplish that.  The second I laid eyes on that horrible building I knew what I had known since the funeral, I wanted to die.  I wasn't afraid anymore, there was nothing left for me anyway my father's parents were both dead and he had been an only child, my mother's family had gone west and there was no way of contacting them, I was alone in the world. 

"If you'll please follow me Mr. Blyth," the nun announced stepping out of the carriage.  "I'll show you to your room."  

I slung my bag over my shoulders and lifted my bike from the back of the carriage and followed the sister.  After showing me the shed where I was to leave the bike, Sister Mara, the old nun, took me indoors and up four flights of the spiral staircase.  On the top floor we walked through two halls lined with doors until we finally stopped before one.  

"Here it is. Are you ready my son?"  

I cringed. "Yes Sister" 

She nodded and began to open the door as I continued.  "Sister?"

"Yes my son?"

"Could you please stop calling me that?"

"We are all God's children Mr. Blyth"

"That may be true but I'm not your son!"  I snapped out of frustration, which I instantly regretted and as I began to apologize, the old nun merely smiled, gave a second nod and entered the room.  I got the feeling that she had been expecting that reaction as I followed her in.

            The room was simple but defiantly not what I had expected in the least.  I expected to see a long narrow room lined on both sides with bunk beds, with white walls, and wooden floors.  Instead like every room, this one was lined in champaign colored carpet.  The walls were painted navy blue and were lined on both sides with single beds; there were twelve in all.  At the foot of each bed was a trunk for personal belongings and to the right of every bed was it's own personal night table.  My bed was the last one on the left side, by the window.

            The room was empty, the other boys were in class and I was told to settle in and to wash up for dinner.  When Sister Mara left I didn't know what to do, I was overwhelmed, everything was happening so fast.  I crossed the room, opened my trunk and emptied the few shirts and trousers I was allowed to take, the rest of my things I left in the bag and dropped it into the trunk.  Just as I was about to close the lid I noticed something I hadn't before, under my bag was a small pile of clothing.  At a closer look I determined that it was a uniform.  There were two sets of navy blue pants, white dress shirts, a forest green and navy blue plaid blazer and two ties one forest green and one navy blue.  I don't know why but the sight of that uniform made me angry so I snatched the shirts and blazer and hurled them across the room, next came the ties and pants and once they were gone I discovered a pair of dress shoes which hit the wall with a satisfying clomp.  

"So, this is it.  My new home."   

I flopped face down on the bed and burst out laughing.  It had started out as a suppressed chuckle, which soon became a snigger, and crescendoed until I was roaring with laughter.  Before I knew it as soon as it had started it stopped and there I was lying on my bed bawling my eyes out.   I don't know how long I went on that way but somehow I had fallen into a deep, deep sleep.  I was so far gone that the entrance of my roommates escaped me.

The next thing I knew I was being roughly shaken awake and soon after I could out faint voices.  "Looks like someone has some rage control to deal with."  The first voice commented with a tinge of amusement, obviously noticing the uniforms strewn across the room.  "Somebody get him up if he thinks we're gonna pick this mess up for him he's got another thing coming."  He was met with a few shouts of agreement amidst the bustle of boys washing for dinner.  I felt a pair of small hands shaking me and groaned.

"Aw nock it off Jake, cut the kid a break will ya? You all know everyone here did the same thing, more or less."  Came the second of the voices.  "Mush stop shaking him and go eat with everyone else, I'll take care of the new kid."

            The second I hear the door click shut I let out a sigh of relief, all that noise was giving me a headache.  "Ok kid it's just you and me, now up."

"Go away" I managed 

"Come on kid don't make me force you out of bed, cuz I can and I will." 

"Sleep"

"You can do that later. The sisters don't like it when we're late for things especially dinner.  They'll hold prayer for us you know."

"…"

The boy gave an audible sigh and before I knew what was happening he had his arms linked under mine and was dragging me across the room into the adjoined washroom.  Some how the kid managed to lift me into the shower and turned it on, clothes and all.  I shot up at the feel of the cold water on full blast.  " Jesus!"  I exclaimed for the faucet.  "What the hell was that for!"  The boy only laughed and threw me a towel.  He was shorter then me, which wasn't saying much because I was especially tall for my age, and everyone, was shorter than me. He was also a year younger than me with dark mussed hair and chocolate brown eyes to match.  His uniform was loose fitting, his jacket was worn inside out to show the solid green lining, and he chose to wear the blue tie loosely.  

"Can't say I didn't warn ya."  He remarked and left me to dry off.  "Look I know you're feeling like shit right now but just keep in mind that you're not the only one who's suffering.  And try to keep the room trashing to a minimum we're trying to stay out of trouble this week."  He informed me shoving the uniform in my hands.  

"There's no way I'm putting this on."  I stated.

"If I have to you have to so suck it up and stop acting like a girl."

Ten minuets later I appeared defeated with my green tie hanging untied beneath my jacket.  He laughed at the sight then extended his hand, which I shook.  "I'm Bumlets by the way, at least that's what I'm known as on the streets.  But to the nuns I'm Guy Tully, the child from hell."  

"Nathan Blyth" 

"Well Nate lets go, we don't want to keep the nuns waiting."

A/N:  I know I said I'd reveal who the newsie was this chapter but it just didn't fit in with it.  You'll find out soon though, I promise.  Hope you liked it anyway please review! 


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